The Storm Lake school board has proposed a three-year waiting period from the time of death to considering naming a facility in honor of an individual. The thinking here is quite right - it is best to let a little time pass and be able to view a person's contributions is the context of the district's history, with the raw emotion of a beloved person's passing and funeral taken out of the equation.
Like the proponent for naming the football field in honor of former coach John Swanson, though, I don't see where a three-year wait would achieve anything that a one-year period would not.
The beauty of the Swanson proposal, I think, is more than a plaque or sign. It's the opportunity that could be seized as part of it. Hold a mass football reunion, and not only invite Swanson's family, and those directly impacted from the 30 years of Swanson's tenure, but all players, coaches and colleagues from the entire history of football at SLHS. If that were to gain momentum, what a moment. What a photo to be shot from atop the bleachers. What a tourism opportunity. What a chance to rekindle friendships. It would be a shot in the arm for the district, the sport and the community.
* How weird is it, to watch footage of a blizzard on the eastern seaboard, while it is a bright, sunny and unseasonably 40-plus degrees here - a late January day when a coat is optional equipment? You know things are pretty rough when NBA games and even the WWE are snowed out. We can only hope everyone comes through okay, and resist the impulse to gloat about how nice it has been in our region this week. Winter is far from over, and it wouldn't be wise to hex our good fortunate with some bad juju.
Found myself glued to "Snowmageddon" coverage on the news Monday night. As usual, they had the fashion-model-looking weather reporters dolled up in fur-hooded parkas, color-coordinating little knit hats and suede gloves, perfectly made up and clutching their microphones out in front of the TV station, acting like they could barely stand against the fierce wind. Oh the humanity! With scarcely a few lazy flakes of snow in the air at that time. It kind of kills it when a guy in just a sweatshirt strolls casually through the background walking his dachshund, wondering what the cameras are all about. And the look on the poor weather lady's face when the inane blow-dried anchor dude in his warm studio keeps on asking her ridiculous, meaningless question. She obviously doesn't know answers without a teleprompter and a meteorology professor. Her fashionably emaciated form slowly succumbs to frostbite.
I hope she went in and stuffed a snowball down the back of the anchor's oh-so-carefully groomed neck.
* Following Deflate-gate has been most educational and entertaining, unless perhaps you are a Colts fan. The investigation has been going on for a week (seems like a year), and although the league claims to have video evidence, we're told it may take another month to fully examine the crime scene. Is it really that difficult to go ask the ballboy? There's not a thousand suspects, here.
The NFL somehow seems to take a few ounces of air about a zillion times more seriously than it did Ray Rice viciously knocking his fiancé cold and dragging her around, which is a rather sad commentary on our times.
FOXSports reports air pressure in a football as if World War III were breaking out, speaking of anonymous sources (Deepball?) who imply that the investigation "has zeroed in on a locker room attendant (who)... is a strong person of interest," and expounds on "sophisticated forensic evidence." Like what, a bike pump?
Belichick and Brady know absolutely nothing, see nothing, didn't even realize footballs had air in them. They recall less than Reagan did during the Iran Contra hearings. Conspiracy theorists are even suggesting that the Pats have been set up in an elaborate double-cross sting. A thousand comedians gratefully receive a career extension, writing awkward one-liners about how Tom Brady accidentally deflates his supermodel spouse's implants.
TV covers the inflation of footballs with considerably more fervor than it ever did wars in the middle east, climate change or world hunger.
It would all be a great premise for a comedy movie, with Danny DeVito as the coach, Jim Carrey as the beleaguered QB, Tom Arnold as the dimwitted commissioner, and I suppose James Earl Jones as the voice of the football.
The Patriots are guilty of being good at football. The rest, well, it sure seems like a whole bunch of hot air.
* Speaking of models, from time to time I search area town names on eBay to see if there are any historical items for sale. While hunting "Alta Iowa" I turned up Christian Louboutin, a swanky line of 70 boutiques in the trendiest spots in 46 countries. The French fashion designer has a line of chunky high-heel shoes named "Alta Iowa" - and his shoes sell for as much as 4,000 bucks. The line also has leopard-pattern boots apparently shod in pony hair for a cool grand, named, "Alta Ariella" which sounds for all the world like a misspelled high school name we know.
Now, Alta is not an uncommon girl's name in Paris, but it's all just two much of a coincidence. We spoke to one of the boutique manager, who didn't think the famed Louboutin would have any ties to smalltown Iowa. I'm curious though, so if anyone has an answer, let me know.
In the meantime, Alta, your town is on the feet of Princess Caroline, Madonna, Nicki Minaj, Gwynth Paltrow, Britney Spears, Kim Kardashian, Catherine Deneuve. Danielle Steel reputedly owns 6,000 pairs.